How to invite a grieving mother to a baby shower.

Sometimes people just don't realize that a person who has experienced a loss doesn't feel like partying or celebrating.  If I lost my husband, I wouldn't want to go to my friend's husband's birthday party because all i would be thinking about is the husband i don't have.  Now the same would go for someone who has lost a baby (no matter what age the baby was)  I don't want to celebrate a baby shower for someone else because all I'll be thinking about is the baby I don't have.

It comes with great disrespect and great insult to a grieving person to have someone just come out and say "You're invited to the baby shower!"
What did you just say?  A baby shower?  Are you kidding me? You didn't even mention that I just lost my baby and you expect me to attend someone else's baby shower when I'm completely overwhelmed with jealousy towards them because I want the joy their experiencing and not this grief.  Sorry, I won't be there.

Does this mean I'm not happy for her who is pregnant?  No?  I'm so happy that she is in a place of joy, that she is not suffering the intense pain that I am, that she is able to move forward with life while my life stands still.  I'm just not able to face her with a the joy that she deserves, I'll just be a puddle of tears.  She doesn't need that in her time of joy.

Am I jealous of her?  Absolutely.  I want what she has.  I want everything she has.  I want people doeting over me with my pregnancy.  I want people to feel my tummy and get excited when the baby kicks.  I want to feel the love and bond with my baby as I feel him moving around inside of me.  I want to sing to my baby.  I want to have my husband put his ear down to my tummy and say "I love you baby, I can't wait to see you."  I want to have my girls put their warm hands on my big round tummy and have them giggle when they feel the baby move and roll and elbow them.  I want the heartburn, I want the food aversions, I want to be up ever hour at night because I have to pee.  I want to walk with the waddle.  I want to have tender breasts because of the colostrum forming (which by the way, my colostrum did form and my breasts did fill up 3 days after the birth with milk.  I just didn't have a baby to feed it to so I had to ice my breasts to make the milk go away, rather than putting on warm wash cloths to excrete the milk...I'll tell more of this story on another day when I feel like telling the whole story of what happened, even if you were there...there's so much more).  I want to look in my closet and think there's nothing to wear because I've grown out of it all.  I want to go to the thrift store and buy more maternity clothes (which I did just 4 days before it happened...I bought about 5 pairs of maternity pants and 8 maternity shirts, which are now in my closet in honor of my baby Westley.  I won't give these clothes to anyone, they were for Westley and him alone.  Maybe one day I will give them to a person I will never see wearing them.  Maybe I'll keep them forever.  Maybe I'll pass them on to my girls.  Maybe I'll ship them to New Foundland so someone can use them whom I'll never meet.  But for now, they are all his.  I didn't get to wear them, but they were for him.)  I want all of it, I want the hours and hours of labor and especially I want the baby that would have been layed on my chest to me straight out of my womb alive, heart beating and breathing. (my baby's heartbeat was strong and good even in the surgery, even though my uterus ruptured, the doctors thought there was nothing wrong obstetrically because the baby's heartbeat was strong and well.  They took me into surgery because they lost my blood pressure and after several attempts of finding it got a reading of 30/32  I was bleeding internally, but they didn't think it had anything to do with the pregnancy, maybe gall bladder, maybe spleen, they had two surgeons there, a general surgeon and an obstetrician...until they opened me up and found my live baby had already been delivered out of my uterus into my abdomen.  The baby never died inside, they had to remove him because the placenta ruptured with the uterus and there was little blood flow to him, but he still had a strong beating heart.)

If I were to give a lesson on how to approach a person who has lost a loved one, especially a baby to miscarriage, still birth, infant or child death, uterine rupture like me or anything else, and someone wanted to invite them to a baby shower this is what i would say:

"Hi, I've been thinking about you, you've been on my heart a lot lately."   Whether it's true or not, say it, they need to hear that someone values them. "And I've been praying for you."   She will probably say 'really?' or 'thank you' because she will feel like no body cares and maybe not believe that you've been praying for her, and if you haven't then just before you make the call say 'Lord I pray you will comfort ... and help me have compassion towards them'  there, now it's true, you have prayed for them. " I am so sorry for the loss of your sweet baby Westley John."  Very important to mention the baby's name, it gives honor to the life that existed instead of not saying the baby's name and pretending like he never came, never lived, never meant something...he meant a whole world of dreams, a whole world.  Don't worry about upsetting her in case she's having a good day, it never leaves her mind, you won't upset her any further than she's been already.  Really you won't, no matter even if she is smiling.  You'll actually do a world of good because it will let her know that in the midst of her sadness and emptiness there's someone who cares, and for her to know this, it actually makes her feel deep inside that she is loved, regardless of her belief in God, which is really important because she will feel like it was her fault and the whole world blames her for the loss of the baby that was going to be a brother or a grand child or a nephew or a cousin or a playmate.  "I want you to know how important you are to me, and how deeply I feel, and will continue to feel, for you." She had the compassion from others when it happened but now that some time has passed she feels like nobody remembers and that the loss that's so deep in her heart doesn't matter to anyone anymore, it's important to say 'will continue to feel for you' because then at least she will know that in the midst of her sadness which comes and goes she's got someone whom she can remember continues to care.  "It must be incredibly painful." It is incredibly painful, soulfully painful, indescribably painful, so painful that you will never know how it feels no matter if you've lost a loved one or if you've lost a baby yourself. 

Don't pretend to know how it feels and more importantly don't say 'I know how it feels' because everyone grieves differently and you won't know how they are feeling.  When you say 'It must be incredibly painful'  you will give them a breath of fresh air, an incredible sense that it's ok for them to feel the pain, even though you want to take the pain away, and it will help them release the tension they've been feeling that they think nobody understands, especially if it's been some time now. To her she'll be thinking 'omg it's ok to feel this way, I'm not crazy, I'm just human, and this person is acknowledging that, thank goodness I'm not alone and my baby isn't forgotten'. 

Go on to say: "I'll completely understand if you don't feel like coming, but I wanted to include you and make sure you
knew how important you are to us.  We're holding a shower (try not to use the words baby shower, just shower is enough) for ..... at this time and this date.  Don't give me an answer right now, in fact don't answer at all.  If you feel strong enough inside on that day (because everyday is different for a grieving person) and want to come then we would love to have you.  If it's too hard, then don't try to push yourself, forget we're even having it, we all understand it's hard.  We haven't forgotten about Westley, (again, mention the name) he's in our hearts forever.  I'm here if you want to talk.  I'll always be here whenever you'd like to talk or vent or cry or have fun or just hug, I'm here for you, I'll always be here. I won't judge I'll just listen."  And that's just what she needs, to know that she can vent and cry and not have someone tell her yet again, 'just think about all the good things in life' or 'just be thankful for the kids you DO have' because the kids alive never replace the kid that is dead or 'things will look better soon' or 'it was God's will' or any of those simple pat and uncomforting answers or advice. 

A grieving person just needs to hear themselves talk and have someone just listen, because this allows the human brain to hear, adjust and then accept the situation on it's own.  Advice or simple answers never allow the human brain to accept the grief it's experiencing.  Advice and simple answers actually make acceptance of the loss much MUCH more difficult because the human brain is now left to fight with the advice/answer that gives them no comfort.  The person just feels anger or resentment towards those answers and now has more to deal with than just the grief, now they have to deal with anger and resentment towards those answers and likely the person who said them, along with grief.  Answers and advice actually make grief worse not better. 

When a grieving person is met with a compassionate person who just listens, the grieving person will eventually gain strength from the compassion because the brain is able to again hear, adjust, and understand, then and only then the grieving person begins to make sense of the loss with it's OWN answers as to why the loss occurred.  A grieving person will never be able to fully accept their loss because of someone elses's version as to why it happened.   They have to come up with their own answers to eventually accept the loss. 

Be compassionate, speak little, listen lots, hold hands, pray, hug, give gentle eye contact, and just be there.


Ok to recap: "Hi,  I've been thinking of you.  You've been on my heart a lot lately.  And I've been praying for you.  I'm so sorry for the loss of your sweet baby Westley John.  It must be incredibly painful for you.  I want you to know how important you are to me and how deeply I feel, and will continue to feel, for you.  It must be incredibly painful.  I'll completely understand if you don't feel like coming, but I wanted to include you and make sure you knew how important you are to us.  We're holding a shower for ... at this time and this date.
Don't give me an answer right now, in fact don't answer at all.  If you feel strong enough inside on that day  and want to come then we would love to have you.  If it's too hard, then don't try to push yourself, forget we're even having it, we all understand it's hard.  We haven't forgotten about Westley, he's in our hearts forever.  I'm here if you want to talk.  I'll always be here whenever you'd like to talk or vent or cry or have fun or just hug.  I'm here for you, I'll always be here. I won't judge I'll just listen."

and btw  try not to ask a grieving person "How are you?"  I know it's just an easy and common thing to say, but if you could TRY to hold back and instead say "I've been thinking about you, do you feel like talking about Westley, becasue I'm here for you."  or even just "Hi, I've been thinking about you." and leave it at that, let them fill in the next sentence, this would be so good.  Besides she won't answer "how are you?" truthfully and inside she'll be thinking "I'm miserable you idiot, what else do u think, do u think I'm fine?' but she'll say "fine" and be hating that there goes another person who doesn't care that she's hurting inside.

There I've said my piece.  I think this goes for everyone and every situation and every grieving person no matter what the loss, no matter how much time has passed.  And let me tell you, for me it's been 8 months and that not much time at all.  If Westley came on his due date he would be 4 months old now.

I had a friend do this very thing...compassionatly tell me that she was expecting, and acknowledged my loss and my pain.  I was able to say to her (while crying) that I was happy for her and wanted to share her joy, but when I was ready to, because she deserves joy from me about her bundle arriving.  I asked her not to share any of her baby pictures or announcements with me until I was ready to see them.  Our friendship is intact, I don't avoid her (like I do the other pregnant women I see) because I feel she understands my pain and how it relates to her joy.